


Stable

by scribblemoose



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-27
Updated: 2010-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/pseuds/scribblemoose





	Stable

Merlin sat on an upturned bucket and fed treats to Arthur's horse. Hengroen was in a playful mood and rewarded Merlin for each morsel by nudging him so hard on the shoulder he almost lost his balance. Or, failing that, by dribbling on his arm. Or nibbling at his hair with his soft, hairy, rubbery lips. (He had a bit of a thing for Merlin's hair; he seemed to find it hilarious to make it all stick on end like he'd been dragged backwards through a bush.) Merlin fussed and spluttered and complained at appropriate intervals until he'd run out of tasty food items, at which point Hengroen pretended to lose interest in Merlin and started throwing hay around his stall instead.

Looking after Arthur's horse wasn't so very different from looking after Arthur himself, Merlin decided.

However, as it was already nearly dark and Arthur would be wanting a bath and dinner and probably to do some mindless ranting about something (most likely Merlin's many inadequacies), it was time for Merlin to leave the relative calm of the stables and return to the castle.

"Try not to get into trouble before morning," Merlin told Hengroen. "He wants to go hunting and it's me who gets it in the neck if you aren't all clean and tidy and ready to go."

Hengroen stamped and fussed a bit, and somehow Merlin found himself stroking his noble neck, dragging long fingers firmly over thick muscle and coarse hair, teasing his luxuriant mane. He sighed. Hengroen looked at him with his huge brown eyes, and snorted.

"I know. But I can't tell him, can I?" said Merlin.

_~Have you got any more of those carrots?~_

"No. Anyway, you've had enough. If you go down with colic in the middle of the night it's me they'd get out of bed, you know."

_~When I was a foal Arthur stayed up all night with me. Many times.~_

"Really?"

_He talked to me. He kept me warm. He gave me nice milk._

Merlin thought about the morteus plant, and a pair of goblets on a wooden table with the roar of the ocean in his ears. "He has his moments, that's true."

_~This hay is dusty.~_

"No it isn't. You do talk some rubbish."

Hengroen tossed his head. _~You should notice what stupidity comes out of your mouth sometimes. Magic this and warlock that and 'oh, I have all these dreadful secrets'. You're your own worst enemy. You should tell him.~_

"That's not very fair. It's not easy, you know. If Uther found out-"

_~There you go again. Try living in the present. Look around you. Then you'll see what really matters.~_

"Any other advice, oh great and wonderful horse?"

Hengroen gave him a long appraising look.

_~You could do with eating more. Your flanks are very thin.~_

"Oh, great. Now I'm being insulted by a horse."

_~Prince_ Arthur's _horse.~_

"Oh, I do beg your pardon, I'd forgotten you're royalty."

_~You are forgiven. I need more carrots. Not the big ones that taste of wood. The small ones that grow in the palace garden. They're sweet.~_

Merlin sat back on his bucket, head bumping against the wall, and closed his eyes. "I don't believe it. Wherever I go, 'do this, Merlin, do that Merlin...'

"Merlin!"

"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, it's a wonder I don't get tired of my own...."

Merlin opened his eyes, and blinked. Blinked again.

"There we go!" said Arthur, looming in Merlin's vision, wearing his particularly infuriated expression. "Had a nice nap, did we?"

Merlin looked around the stables: it was mostly dark, the only light coming from the street outside. Hengroen stood innocently in his stall, munching on hay. When Arthur absently patted his rump he made a happy whiffling noise.

No talking at all. Talking. Hengroen had been talking. A talking horse.

"I must have dropped off. I was dreaming!" he said, everything falling into place.

"Well, that's nice, Merlin," said Arthur, dripping sarcasm. "I was dreaming too. It was a strange dream, that I had an efficient servant who actually remembered to get my bath ready and bring me meals. Fancy that, eh? Bit far-fetched, obviously."

"Right. Sorry. I'll, um...."

"Yes, I think that would be a great idea, Merlin. If it's not too much trouble."

Merlin got to his feet and followed Arthur outside. He closed the stable door behind them.

"I hope you haven't been spoiling Hengroen," Arthur said quietly, as they walked in step towards the castle.

"No, no," said Merlin, as innocently as he could. "'Course not."

"He needs a firm hand. Or he gets ideas in his head."

"It's alright. I know he's your favourite."

Arthur rolled his shoulder, carefully trying to pretend like it wasn't true. But he was a worse liar than Merlin had ever been, and he gave up pretty quickly. "I've had him a long time, Merlin. I watched him being born, in fact. I must have been about eleven or twelve. He wasn't very strong at first, and his mother died the next day. My father would have had him slaughtered, but I came here every night and cared for him. I fed him by hand until we found another lactating mare to foster him. It gives you a bond with a horse, and that's no bad thing. Of course, seeing as it's all you can do to stay on the back of a pack mule for ten minutes straight-"

He glanced at Merlin, probably expecting a heated denial, but all Merlin could do was keep his voice very carefully and deliberately steady and say, "when he was a foal, you mean? You cared for him?" _He talked to me. He kept me warm. He gave me nice milk._

"Yes. I spent every night in the stables until he was strong enough to stand and show his promise. I didn't trust the stable staff not to carry out my father's orders." Arthur paused at the bottom of the wide stone steps that led to the main doors of the palace. "I suppose, you know. The mare dying, my mother... I was only a child."

Merlin couldn't help imagining the little boy Arthur once was, growing up lonely in this huge castle with no mother. "I'm sorry," he said, voice a bit choked up.

"Yes. Well. Hengroen's special. It's... well, it was a long time ago." They exchanged a glance, and then Arthur shouldered through the doors. "Come on, Merlin. I'm starving."

"Yes, Sire," Merlin said, following him inside. "And I've heard the carrots from the palace gardens are particularly sweet at the moment."

"Carrots, Merlin? Really? Do I _look_ like a rabbit?"

"No, Sire," said Merlin, and mostly managed not to laugh.

_~fin~_


End file.
